


Flowers Bloom Until They Rot

by Penndragon27



Series: Penn's Midnight Fics [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23016793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penndragon27/pseuds/Penndragon27
Summary: It was just another day, until Petunia took out the milk bottles.
Relationships: Petunia Evans Dursley & Lily Evans Potter
Series: Penn's Midnight Fics [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1321043
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Flowers Bloom Until They Rot

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short bit of angst. Title from the Hadestown song, Flowers.

Dudley was drooling.

People had warned Petunia about how messy babies were, but nothing could prepare her for the reality. She was cleaning the house twice a day and was still finding mashed bananas in the planters and apple juice sticking the tabletop.

“Now, now, popkin. There we go.” She wiped his mouth, even though it was futile. Within a minute his chin would be shining with fresh spittle.

Petunia sighed and tossed out the napkin. She had always hated mess, but for some reason the sight of the small, pink child covered in various stains didn’t make her angry. She didn’t like it, she could never have positive feelings about chocolate on white cloth, but she was content. She could always wash up her son, wrap him in a clean blanket, and rock him to sleep. 

For some reason, she’d found herself humming an old lullaby these days. It was hers, when she was young, but it was also her sister’s, so it tended to hold more bitterness than love.

Dudley was focused on the cheerios in front of him, his mouth mimicking the shape as he pointed at them curiously. The shower was running above; Vernon getting ready for the day.

Deciding she could let her Dudleykins out of her sight for a few seconds, Petunia picked up the empty milk bottles to leave outside. Hopefully the fresh ones were delivered already, so she could get started on a custard. It needed time to chill before supper and it was Vernon’s favourite.

All thoughts of pudding flew out of her head when she opened the door. The bottles fell with a crash, barely ten inches from the tiny head of the baby on her front stoop.

She must’ve screamed, because her throat was stinging, but it could have been the breaking glass that woke the infant up. He immediately started wailing, the bit of a thing with a wisp of black hair and a jagged scar on his forehead.

She immediately picked him up, shock making her movements stiff. She lifted a thin finger to brush back the tuft, wondering how such a small person could have been injured already. Her wrist touched paper and she found an envelope tucked into the blankets.

She sat on the step, avoiding the glass, but not the dirt. She set the baby back into his basket and opened up the letter.

It had lots of words, written in neat, slanted writing, but only two jumped out at her. She couldn’t get past the first line as they swam in front of her eyes.

_ Sister. Dead. _

Petunia hadn’t seen Lily since she and Vernon got married. She hadn’t even gone to Lily and James’ wedding, refusing to support such a dreadful celebration. She couldn’t even remember the last time they’d spoken. There was that vase, the hideous one she’d sent for Christmas out of spite, but she hadn’t done more than sign the card.

The concept of her sister being dead was a strange one. Murdered, apparently. That was even stranger. Petunia never thought about Lily dying, but when she did, she expected it to be the way anyone else did. Old, in her sleep, hair grey, surrounded by grandchildren.

Petunia tried to read the rest of the letter, but it was blurring. Of course wizards couldn’t type things out clearly. Had to do everything the more difficult way. Writing. Living. Dying.

Giving up, Petunia tossed the letter aside and turned to the baby. He had quieted down some, thankfully. He looked nothing like Lily had when she was born, except for his eyes. They were wide and green, looking up at her with fascination. She wondered if he knew who she was, why he was here.

His parents were dead. Petunia’s sister was dead and she couldn’t do anything. Those dumb freaks couldn’t even tell her in person, hiding behind a scribbled letter. They just dropped this child on her doorstep and ran off without so much as a by your leave.

It was fitting, honestly. All Petunia and Lily did was leave each other. Lily ran off to that school, Petunia ran off with Vernon, and now Lily had left again. It would show Lily up, to leave her son at the nearest orphanage and never think of him or her again.

She got through the letter before crumpling it up, tossing it into the basket where it landed on the baby’s tummy. She didn’t care about spells or dark lords or wars. She just cared that her sister was gone again and Petunia was alone.

The baby gurgled next to him, bubbles forming at his mouth. Rolling her eyes, Petunia lifted the corner of the blanket to wipe the drool away.


End file.
